I'm just a few hours back from Keith's and my first trip to the Boston PD to look at pawn sheets. Needless to say, I'm utterly horrified, devastated, and completely depressed about the steps we will need to take and the degree of work it will take to have even the slightest hope of recovering my prized items.

First off, pawn sheets are frequently messy, in small type, and incredibly vague. Like a typical description reads something like "14K WG ring with stone." As you can imagine, that could easily describe a million pieces of jewelry. And its not in their interest to exactly be as forthcoming with the details--if stolen property is claimed, they are out the loan money with nothing to re-sale. Personally, I am going to make it a point, and a big point at that to lobby my local politicians for a law on the books that requires PHOTOGRAPHS instead of lame-ass vague descriptions. I don't see how taking Polaroids or digital photos can be any more time consuming (if not less) than writing descriptions. Personally, if more people recover their stuff, that's the price pawnbrokers pay for dealing in stolen goods. If you suspect its stolen, don't buy it. Then people won't steal it in the first place. People don't do these kinds of break-ins because they are looking for some nice jewelry for themselves---they are almost always drug junkies needing quick cash for their next fix of heroin or cocaine.

This evening I sat quietly looking through the huge stack, my heart sinking quicker and quicker, all reports with dates ranging from 05/08/2006 to 05/12/2006 and as things progressed I just wanted to let out a scream in the detective's office. A bloodcurdling scream of complete anguish to show how dissolute and heavy my soul feels right now thinking of my violated home, sense of self, and the legacy I planned to pass on. Lucky for me, and everyone else at the Boston PD, I have an unflappable sense of control and decorum when called upon. But my feelings of uncontrollable frustration and rage were practically impossible to supress--I didn't want to act like a lady. I wanted to go on a rampage. But I pervailed...until I got in the car.

Even now, as I returned home with Keith this evening, I am particularly depressed as I found out that my father is now in the hospital again. My grandmother rang with the news no sooner than we stepped into the door (30 seconds tops). The blood thinning agents that he takes caused his blood to pool in his knee, and one of the stiches opened. Therefore, my dad sprung a "leak." He's been in the hospital now for a day and will likely remain there for 4-5 days. I am so angry the turn my life's taking right now---when is my luck going to change? I don't think I can truly handle any more bad news. I'm trying to drive myself to see people, put on a happy and cordial attitude at work, and I think I'm putting a pretty good face forward, but am fast losing my mental will to even get out of bed in the mornings.

Many people have written me to express their concern and condolences...most admitting that they can't possibly understand what it is like. I'm not so sure anymore that it is the loss of the items, valuable or not, and the memories (the getting and their "companionship" through certain life events) and people they represent along with it. I told Keith that the most utterly devastating thing is my attitude at this point that I no longer want to collect items I love in the future---accepting these items is like making myself more vulnerable to this happening again. The bottom line is if the bad guys want to get into your apartment, they will--even the cops have stated as much several times.

I know that these thoughts of not wanting more things to become attached to sounds nutty, but, if you never love things, never become attached to things, and never develop memories that correlate with those things, its a lot harder to get hurt when you get robbed or your house burns down. I recognize in the logical part of me that that's crazy talk--but truly, if Keith ran into the jewelry store right now and we were getting back all the financial value of the items and bought me the same earrings I wore on my wedding day---I couldn't take them. Just couldn't. I'd be replacing things that can't and ought not to be replaced. I'd be accepting something that could hurt me in the end. I know I don't have control over lots of things--other people namely--their deeds, words, thoughts, and feelings. I can accept that. I can't accept it when I can't take responsibility. I could accept my purse being stolen in December 04 because it was my own damn fault I left it unattended. It was a pain to replace everything--heck, it took months just to get replacement work keys...but it was my fault and I could accept it. But it wasn't my fault that my landlord is a cheap asshole, that had I even complained about the door it would have taken his customary 2-3 months to get things fixed anyway if at all....I can't take the fault for bad people and bad people wanting my stuff....

The pain of all this is tenfold for someone like me--who still remembers what she wore on her first day of kindergarten, the first thing she got in trouble at school for, what songs she played at piano recitals, what she wore on the airplane to Sweden, movies she saw and meals she ate on dates, touches, glances, conversations 10 years old. Normally this aptitude is a gift---something that older relations delight in when they realize that a then elementary-school age child remembered things quite vividly that they thought for sure I couldn't possibly. There's so many things I can lovingly recall to my husband (sweet comments, love letters, poems, generally misbehaving). Now even little silly moments---like explaining a class ring to my Swedish host brother, throwing my sapphire ring at Keith in a fit of anger during an argument in college, or panicking looking for the blue topaz ring he gave me in my apartment in Stockholm 5 hours before my flight was to depart, because I couldn't bear to possibly leave it behind---are just like little stabs of hurt.

Now I realize I'm babbling and I should just go to bed. Hopefully I'll feel somewhat more resolved and composed in the morning.